


Building Bridges

by caitrionabh



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, and ice has the worst timing ever, den is incapable of not helping, iceland is a ghost, nor is grieving, so he's dead but it's pre-story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4293009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caitrionabh/pseuds/caitrionabh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Emil died, Sindre has been letting his little brother haunt him. What he doesn't know before Søren moves in is that the haunting isn't necessarily all in his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is a work in progress that i'm moving over from tumblr so sorry if updates are slow. As for names Norway - Sindre, Denmark - Søren, and Iceland - Emil. Canon names for Finland and Sweden were used
> 
> Warnings: this begins with an unspecific recollection of the accident which killed emil so minor violence and character death

_The world began to take form around him, a kaleidoscope of colors slowly sharpening into clear shapes. Ears ringing, it took him a moment to place himself. He was in a car. Heat pressed against him spurring his brain into more urgent thoughts and dragging pain through the fog. A small voice in his mind was whispering that something important had been forgotten, and then out of the corner of his eye he cause a gleam of red that looked uncomfortably like blood. Blood that upon careful inventory of his body, did not appear to be his own. He went still, terror freezing him in place, trying to resist the inexorable pull of that red, but slowly, reluctantly, he turned and met a pair glassy, lifeless eyes. Horrifyingly familiar eyes. His little brother’s eyes. His mouth opened._

Consciousness returned with a piercing scream and limbs fighting free of the sheets that imprisoned them. Collapsing back onto the bed, Sindre dragged a shaking hand across his forehead, a broken sob trapped in his throat, as if to mimic his dream, he turned his head to glance across at the clock by his bed.

Slowly dragging himself upright and heading towards the shower, he reflected rather bitterly that it was a rather sad reflection on one’s life when it was considered an achievement to have managed to sleep until four a.m.

* * *

 

“… Sindre? Sindre, did you hear any of what I just said?”

Blinking back into focused existence, Sindre met Dr. Riley’s concerned gaze with a questioning stare.

“I’m sorry?”

With a sigh the psychologist leaned back in her seat and took a moment to study the young man in front of her, who met her gaze head on, an almost challenging look in his eyes. At first glance, he seemed perfectly healthy and sound: he was well dressed in slacks and a blue shirt, his blond hair was clean and healthy looking, slightly wavy but clearly styled, and for the moment even his gaze was clear and focused, his blue eyes meeting hers directly. It took a closer look to notice the nervous twitch of his fingers, the nails destroyed by anxious picking and biting, the purple bruise like circles under his eyes, the slight pallor of his skin, and as a loud bang echoed in the street outside the office, the way in which he went perfectly, unnaturally still.

Shaking her head, she answered his question, “I was saying that I was thinking that it might help you if you had someone move in with you.”

Eyebrows furrowing he gave her a bewildered look. “What? Why?”

“You spend almost all of your time alone in that house, Sindre. And I can’t help but feel that the total absence of other people from your life, particularly at home, is allowing the memory of your brother to haunt you.” she explained patiently. “I’m simply suggesting that you entertain the possibility of a roommate of sorts, just to see if breaking the pattern helps with your other issues.”

With a sullen look he muttered, “I guess I’ll think about it.”

A glance at the clock told her that her time with Sindre was drawing to a close. She smiled and when he stood she followed, moving past him to open the door to let him out.

“Same time next month.” she said, as he edged past her.

He nodded distractedly, moving down the hallway and out into the street. With a slightly frustrated sigh, she push the conundrum of a patient out of her mind and began preparing for the next appointment.

 

* * *

 

_Traumatized young man seeks roommate. Must be willing to pay for utilities and deal with screaming in the night and a plethora of mental issues._

Sindre snorted as he hit backspace, erasing the message. That was likely laying it on a little thick and it certainly would alienate most people. Although perhaps that was a preferable option. On second thought, anyone who replied to that kind of ad would be the opposite of the kind of person Sindre felt comfortable sharing a living space with.

Grimacing, he pushed away from the desk and made his way into the kitchen. With the press of a few buttons the bitter tang of coffee began to diffuse through the air. Not much later, he returned to the computer, a cup of caffeinated heaven in hand. He took a small sip, relishing in the slow spread of warmth.

Turning back to the screen he sat and ran a hand through already messy hair, letting out a groan of frustration. This clearly wasn’t worth it… but it would be nice to split the bills for once.

A dozen drafts later he had what seemed to be a workable advertisement:

_24 year old male seeking male roommate between ages of 21 and 30. Must be able to help pay for utilities and groceries. Should be clean and fairly quiet. Room available is a spacious bedroom with a full bathroom across the hall, fully furnished. Supermarkets and other stores are within a 5 minute drive and there is room for a car if you have one. Not recommended for light sleepers._

After one final read through he tacked on his contact information before submitting it before he had the chance to change his mind. Already regretting his decision, he drained the last of his coffee and powered down the computer before.

With the slightly hopeful thought that perhaps no one would reply to his ad, he retired to his bed for yet another restless night.


	2. Chapter 2

Tino stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching as Søren packed a few more books into one of the many boxes scattered throughout the room.

“You know that I’m not forcing you to move out right?” he asked.

Søren grinned at him, “Of course I do but even if you insist I’m not gonna be in you and Ber’s way I still feel like I’m intruding on your relationship.” He paused, looking thoughtful before continuing, “And besides there are some details of my brother’s love life that I really never needed or wanted to know.”

“I would say I’m sorry but I’d be lying.” Tino said with an unapologetic shrug.

Shuddering, Søren waved it off, “Whatever, just don’t make me think about it anymore than i already have.”

He could hear Tino’s laughter as the man made his way down the hall. Shaking his head in a futile attempt to forget the things he’d heard, he marveled again at how much evil could be contained in such a small person. He swore Tino did it on purpose simply because he knew it freaked him out. By all accounts it was a mystery.

And on the subject of mysteries…

Søren pulled out his phone and glanced at the time. Just after eleven, so it wouldn’t be much longer until he had to leave to go meet his potential new roommate. Hopefully this one worked out and was at least a little quieter than Gilbert and his friends. He loved the guy but if the sun is rising and you still haven’t shut the hell up you have a problem.

With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair and headed towards the kitchen. Judging by the smell, Berwald was baking. Carefully, he peered around the doorframe and spotted them. A tray of fresh Wienerbröd cooling, unguarded on the counter. With a grin he snuck into the room and reached for a pastry.

“What’re you doing?”

Letting out a startled - and very manly - squeak, he spun around to see his brother standing in the doorway.

“I was just seeing what the lovely smell was?” he tried.

Clearly not fooled, Berwald shook his head and said, “If you leave them now you can have one when you get back.”

Defeated, Søren left the kitchen, shoulders slumped, and headed for the front door.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. You better save me one of those.” he called over his shoulder.

“Good luck.” Berwald replied.

Wandering into the hallway with a pastry in hand Tino grinned and said, “I make no promises. But good luck with the roommate search.”

Søren scowled at Berwald as he shut the door. Of course Tino got first pick. He’d be lucky to find crumbs by the time he got back. Muttering about how utterly unfair the whole situation was he unlocked his bike and pushed it down onto the street. Better early than late he supposed.

* * *

 

Swinging his leg over the side of his bike he stepped off onto the sidewalk outside a cozy looking house. It looked more like the kind of home a young family would live in than one lone guy. Then again a second look at the peeling paint, dusty darkened windows, and slowly dying garden did contradict that image slightly.

After securing his bike Søren made his way to the front door, jabbing the doorbell nervously, swallowing as he heard the chime echo through the closed door. Running his fingers through his hair he waited, but no one appeared to be answering. However as he went to ring  the bell a second time the door opened inward to reveal a young man about his age.

“Yes?” the stranger asked curtly.

“Oh sorry!” Søren said, “I’m Søren Andersen. I replied to your ad about a roommate and you said I should drop by today.”

Turning away and gesturing for Søren to follow he replied, “Sindre Larsen. And you’re early.”

He was a little frosty but that didn’t deter Søren from following him into the house, carefully shutting the door behind himself. He followed Sindre through the house and listened carefully to all the little details the other man provided. He certainly kept it clean. A little too clean. Some rooms, like the one he would be renting, looked like they hadn’t seen a human in months, maybe years.

As they made their way back to the front hallway Sindre turned abruptly to Søren and asked, “So?”

Confused by the sudden stop, Søren sputtered, “So… what?”

“So do you think you’ll move in or not?” Sindre continued slowly, as it he thought Søren would need it to be spelled out.

Considering for a moment, Søren shrugged and said, “I guess so. I don’t see any reason not to. And the sooner I’m out of my brother’s hair the better.”

As Søren mentioned his brother, a flash of pain crossed Sindre’s face and he looked away quickly.

“Well money for bills is due by the end of the week so if you can pay before then you can move in whenever.”

Søren didn’t miss the tight, controlled tone Sindre had adopted, or the way his hands had clenched into fists at his sides.

“Is tomorrow okay?” he asked hesitantly

Nodding Sindre mumbled an affirmative before adding something about seeing himself out and just knocking when he showed up tomorrow before hurrying into the darkened back of the house.

Following him with a concerned gaze, Søren frowned. He had a new roommate, but if today was anything to go by, things were only starting to get interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

After two weeks things were finally settling into a relatively steady routine. But considering the size of the house, and how much time he spent in it, Søren was surprised  by how well Sindre was able to avoid him. Weirder still, if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear the guy never slept. Still, it was his house, and he supposed that if Sindre didn’t like him he had every right to avoid him. But if he didn’t like him why would he let him stay?

Sighing heavily, Søren continued along the edge of the living room, wiping down the seemingly endless bookshelves. Along with not sleeping, apparently the thought of dusting once and a while had never entered Sindre’s head. Fortunately for him, Søren didn’t mind cleaning. Especially because without snooping, he was finally beginning to learn something about his thus far mysterious housemate. A love for fantasy novels and mythology, an inability to clean up the innumerable coffee mugs he went through, and an apparent lack of any relations - human or otherwise - were forefront among his observations.

And then he came to a cabinet, its glass windows so filthy that it was impossible to discern what was inside. With a groan, Søren pulled the door open, but before he could begin cleaning, his attention was captured by the cabinet’s contents. Framed pictures lined the shelves and Sindre was everywhere in almost several photographs, but he wasn’t alone. In every picture with Sindre, and in many more without him there was another, younger boy. He was a fairer version of his housemate, his white blond hair just a shade lighter and he had smiling blue eyes. It was clear that they couldn’t be anything but brothers.

Søren pulled a picture from the highest shelf to get a closer look, and as he moved the frame he revealed a small, beat-up looking stuffed bird. A puffin. Setting the photo down on a lower shelf, he was reaching for the toy when a sharp voice interrupted him.

“What are you doing!?”

Whirling, he met Sindre’s shocked and furious gaze.

‘I was just trying to clean.” he said, holding up the ruined dust rag as proof.

Swiftly moving past him and forcing him out of the way, Sindre closed the cabinet with a deliberate motion.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Søren asked, “Who’s the boy?”

“Leave it.” Sindre snapped.

“But-”

Sindre exploded. “I SAID  _LEAVE IT_. SO YOU CAN EITHER FORGET ABOUT IT, OR YOU CAN  _GET OUT_!” He shouted.

And with that, Sindre stormed not just from the room, but out of the house entirely, slamming the door behind him and leaving Søren standing bewildered in the living room. With a final glance at the now closed cabinet, Søren’s resolve solidified. He was going to stay, but this wasn’t going to be the end of this.

* * *

 

However, when he explained this to Berwald and Tino while visiting a week later, they weren’t exactly on his side.

“If he told you to leave it, you should probably listen, Søren.” Berwald said.

Letting out a frustrated noise at Berwald’s voice-of-reason tone, Søren cried, “You just don’t understand!”

Raising an eyebrow, Berwald said, “I don’t understand what? Your inability to leave stuff like this alone? Your hero complex? Your need to pry into this guy’s life for the sake of satisfying your own curiosity?”

Søren, looking to Tino for a second opinion, instead found him struggling to hide a grin.

“Sorry, Søren, but you do have a tendency to overdo it with this kind of thing.” Tino remarked, sounding pretty far from apologetic.

Going quiet for a moment, Søren began to wonder whether he was going a little too far, but the memory of the previous night intruded, and convinced him again that something had to be done.

“This isn’t about me anymore, guys. I barely know him but I’m seriously worried about him. He drinks more coffee than you do, Tino, and I swear it’s because he almost never sleeps.” He paused for a moment before continuing quietly, “In the three weeks I’ve lived there I’ve only seen him sleep once, it looked like an accident, and he woke up screaming. I just want to help him, but unless I understand what’s wrong, I can’t.”

Berwald and Tino exchanged a glance, somewhat surprised by the depth of Søren’s concern.

Gently, Tino asked, “Well have you tried looking him up?”

“What do you mean?”

“So you think this all has something to do with this mysterious kid you think is his brother right?” And when Søren nodded, he continued, “Well if you’re right, and something did happen then there may be some kind of record, like on a news site.”

Deliberately ignorant, Søren asked, “Like what?”

The answer Tino gave haunted him back to the house, and as he sat down at his computer to begin his search he found himself paralyzed. Suddenly, he was confronted with the realization that he might not be entirely prepared for what he might find.

Hearing Sindre enter the house and begin moving through the kitchen, the smell of coffee slowly filtering through the house, Søren slowly closed the laptop and crawled into bed. As he slipped into sleep, Tino’s words continued to drift through his dreams.

“ _You might find an obituary_.”


	4. Chapter 4

When he woke it was still dark. Rolling over with a groan, he fumbled his phone off of the bedside table and pressed the power button. Squinting through the glare he managed to make out the time. Just past 4 am, and clearly way too fucking early. Unfortunately, he could also tell that it was just going to be one of those days and that it was rather pointless trying to get back to sleep.

Deciding that coffee was clearly in order, Søren dragged himself out of bed and stumbled down the hallway into the kitchen. Not bothering with the lights, he felt his way along the counter and pulled out a mug and turned on the coffee maker before moving to the kitchen table and slumping into a chair to wait. As he waited he noticed a flicker in the corner of his vision, but when he turned to see what it was, it had disappeared. After the fourth time, he just ignored it. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he was so tired he was seeing things because he felt more than tired enough to hallucinate.

When a beep signaled that the coffee was done he managed to force himself upright and he retrieved his mug, pouring the coffee before adding some sugar from the small jar on the counter, one of his additions to the kitchen. Milk he could do without, but he didn’t understand how Sindre could drink coffee without even adding sugar. Or for that matter how Sindre managed to consume as much coffee as he did. He shook his head and carefully took a sip of coffee. He was no where near awake enough to begin untangling the mess that was his housemate.

Again, he noticed the flickering at the edge of his vision but found nothing there. He rubbed his eyes but it was still there and suddenly he noticed that he felt cold. Shivering, he clasped his hands around the mug and drank more coffee trying to regain some warmth. Quickly finishing the drink, he moved to the sink to rinse out the mug, suddenly eager to return to warmth of his bed.

As he reached to turn on the tap a loud yell rang out from the other end of the house. Startled, Søren dropped the mug, and after placing the voice as Sindre’s, he left the kitchen at a run. Throwing open the door to Sindre’s room, he found the other man sitting hunched over in the bed, utterly alone and not being murdered or kidnapped or any of the other horrible things that had come to mind.

Relaxing slightly, Søren moved into the room and asked, “Hey, you okay? I heard you yell.”

Sindre looked up and Søren realized that there were tears on his cheeks.

“Woah what’s wrong?” he asked, worry clear in his tone and moving towards Sindre.

Hastily wiping his face and refusing to meet Søren’s gaze Sindre said, “I’m fine Søren. Sorry I woke you. Just go back to bed.”

“I was already up so no worries.” Søren said. “And no offense but you look the opposite of fine.”

“Because you’re clearly an expert in fine.” Sindre snapped.

Rolling his eyes Søren replied, “Well no but I do know that if you looked up ‘not fine’ in the dictionary you could probably find your picture.”

Sindre snorted and said, “I might consider listening if I was dumb enough to think that you can look up ‘not fine’ in a dictionary.”

“You can certainly try.” Søren said, grinning at his housemate’s return to a more normal mood. “Seriously though, you look like you got hit by a car.”

Immediately after the words left his mouth, Søren realized that this was possibly the worst thing he could have said. He watched Sindre fold in on himself, that little spark in his eyes dying, and his face going pale, like Søren’s words had been a physical blow.

Wishing that he could go back in time to slap himself Søren said, “Hey I’m sorry if that was a shitty thing to say. Are you okay though?”

“Just go” Sindre mumbled, curling towards the wall. “Please.”

Reluctant to leave him like this, Søren took a hesitant step towards Sindre.

Hearing him move closer Sindre turned back to glare, “I said go.”

Søren flinched at the harshness of his tone, and realizing it would be wrong to stay, left. Returning to his room, he looked towards his computer. Knowing that he wouldn’t be satisfied until he got answers and aware of how unlikely it was that Sindre would provide those answers. Søren gave in and woke up the computer opening a browser and tapped ‘Sindre Larsen’ into the search bar.

The first results were various people’s social media accounts, which wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. His housemate didn’t exactly seem like the Facebook type. Scrolling back up to the top, he filtered the results for news. When the first link that came up belonged to a local paper, he clicked through to the site, and once the page loaded, he had the beginnings of his answers.

The top of the article was dominated by a picture of a horrific looking car wreck, the two metal frames twisted around each other and partially scorched by fire. From the look of things, one car had hit the other and collided with the passenger side of the car. Scanning the article, Søren discovered that one car had been operated by a drunk driver, who had run a red light and t-boned the other vehicle. That driver had walked away with minor injuries. The other driver had also survived, with a few lacerations and a cracked rib, but nothing too major. He was also very familiar; Sindre had been driving the car.

Søren decided to finish the article to see if there was anything else he could learn about his housemate’s accident. When he reached the final section of the article, he wished he hadn’t. Apparently, there had been one unfortunate victim of the accident, the passenger of Sindre’s car, pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. Emil Larsen, Sindre’s 17 year old brother.


	5. Chapter 5

After three days of less than four hours of sleep Søren was tempted to google whether insomnia was contagious. To anyone visiting the house it would be obvious that neither inhabitant was anywhere near well rested. It would also be obvious that unholy amounts of coffee were being consumed. In fact Søren was tempted to ask the neighbors if they were feeling energized by the sheer volume of coffee fumes that must be leaving the house by now.

Even after cycling 10 miles and a warm shower he couldn’t sleep. He was exhausted but he couldn’t turn off his brain. Curiosity killed the cat indeed. Apparently it’s method of murder involved sleep deprivation.

Resigning himself to another long night, Søren made yet another cup of coffee, and decided that a few mindless hours of TV might convince his brain that sleep was a valid alternative to consciousness. Settling on the couch he noticed again that there was a flickering at the edge of his vision. Shaking his head to clear it, he tried to focus on the screen. Since the first night he’d kept seeing it and every day it had gotten a little clearer, and more distracting. He chalked it up to the lack of sleep.

However, when he heard the creak of an opening door behind him, it was impossible to ignore. Turning, he saw that something - or someone - had opened the door to the cabinet that contained the pictures of Sindre and his brother. Søren decided to close the cabinet because he knew that his housemate would think that he’d done it and would be less than pleased. He turned back to place his mug on the coffee table and stood. Then, as he made to move back to the cabinet he froze.

Standing in front of the open door, staring in at the pictures stood a boy. It appeared as if he hadn’t noticed Søren, but had somehow silently entered the house. Just as he moved to confront the intruder, a familiar flicker ran through the boy’s body. At his shocked gasp the figure spun to face him.

Søren’s astonished gaze met a similarly surprised look from a now familiar face. Though the hair was white instead of blond and his eyes were an unnatural shade of purple instead of blue he was still unmistakable. Standing in front of him was Emil. He was looking at a ghost.

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” Søren asked, bewildered.

Emil’s surprise was immediately replaced by an irritated frown. “I’m not supposed to be dead, I am dead, asshole.”

Søren was fairly sure that caffeine didn’t usually cause hallucinations but he made a mental note to take it easy on the coffee anyway, just in case.

“What? You never seen a dead kid before?” Emil taunted.

Blinking and refocusing on the conversation Søren frowned, “No, as a matter of fact I haven’t. Pardon me for not having a welcome committee ready.”

“Apology accepted. Now while we’re on the subject how the hell can you see me? No one else seems to be able to.”

As he spoke Søren realized that Emil might be just as confused and scared as he was.

Softly, he asked, “No one knows you’re here? Not even your brother?”

“Especially not my brother.” Emil replied.

“Why don’t you just tell him you’re here?”

If Søren had any doubts about Emil being Sindre’s brother, the withering look the boy sent his way destroyed them. “If I don’t know how the hell you can see me what makes you think I know how to let Sindre see me?”

“Fair point.” he conceded. “But I don’t think you should just give up. Don’t you want to see him?”

At this, Emil looked uneasy. “I don’t know.” he said in a small voice.

“He’s your brother isn’t he? Why wouldn’t you want to see him?” Søren asked.

“What if it makes him worse.”

At this Søren paused and realized that if Emil was here now, it probably wasn’t a recent thing. He’d likely been drifting around this house alone for three years unable to talk to anyone, unseen but seeing everything. He knew about his brother’s sleepless nights. And he probably blamed himself.

“It might help.” Søren said gently. “You won’t know until you try. And it’s not like you can just hang around here forever.”

Emil still looked unsure. “What if he doesn’t want to see me… like this?” he said, gesturing at himself

“I can’t be sure because I’m not him, but if I were your brother, I’d want to see you no matter what.”

Blinking back glowing tears, Emil started to flicker more strongly, until he was invisible more often than he could be seen.

“Thank you.” he said, voice thick with emotion.

Shaking his head Søren replied, “Hey I was gonna help whether you like it or not I’m stubborn that way.”

Emil gave him a weak smile.

“I’ll talk to Sindre.” he continued. “You just work on getting this whole visibility thing under control so that when you’re ready to talk to him, he can see you okay?”

“Okay.” Emil nodded, looking determined. “I’ll do my best.”

“See you round, kid”

“I’m not a kid!”, Emil protested, scowling as he flickered out of view one last time before vanishing completely.

Søren chuckled before closing the cabinet and turning off the TV. Standing alone in the darkened room he sighed. If this was going to be like any other interaction with Sindre, it was going to be far from easy.


	6. Chapter 6

Two weeks. It had been two entire weeks. Fourteen days. A fortnight. And had he managed to even broach the subject with Sindre?

No, of course not. That would be productive.

Of course, not everyone in the house was as laid back as Søren was pretending to be about the situation. Impatience was quickly giving way to childishness, if the dicks drawn on his bathroom mirror that appeared in the steam from his shower were any indication.

Emil may have been around for the last three years, but Søren was fairly sure he’d never left his teenage years behind.

Sighing heavily, Søren dragged himself just upright enough to grab his phone off the bedside table and check the time. Upon realizing that it was already after 2 in the morning, he let out a defeated groan and managed to convince himself to get out of bed and head for the kitchen. If the last two weeks had taught him anything, it was that if he wasn’t sleeping by this point that it was unlikely that much, if any, sleep would be had.

Unfortunately, seeing as he was fairly likely to be joined in the waking world rather abruptly within the the next hour or so, making two mugs of coffee was the least he could do.

Almost as if he had been waiting for a signal, a sudden burst of noise echoed down the hall from Sindre’s room. Grabbing both mugs, Søren made his way towards the sound, carefully knocking before opening the door.

“What do you want?” Sindre snapped.

Snorting at his tone, Søren replied, “Well I was up making coffee and I just thought you might like some.” Søren crossed the room to hand him the mug. “It should be strong enough for you.”

“Oh.” Sindre looked surprised. “Thanks…”

An awkward pause as both men sipped their coffee.

“So…” Søren began. “Wanna talk?”

Stiffening, Sindre was clearly about to tell Søren to get the hell out but he was interrupted as Søren continued.

“I don’t mean about… whatever the problem is. General talking. Like to take your mind of it or something…” he trailed off.

Relaxing slightly, Sindre shrugged. “Well I guess if we’re both up. You have a subject in mind?”

“Thoughts on the afterlife?” Søren asked without thinking.

There was a moment of stunned silence as Søren tried to think of a way to climb out of the pit of utter stupidity he’d just flung himself into. But before he could even try to apologize Sindre began to laugh. Awkwardly at first, like he wasn’t used to laughing, but after a moment he was shaking with mirth. It was infectious. Sindre had a warm laugh, the kind that made you want to join in and share the joke. Søren was hooked, and started laughing with him.

It took a few minutes for them to calm down, because one look at the other set both of them off again, but when they did Søren’s sides hurt and Sindre was wiping tears from his eyes.

“The afterlife? Seriously?” Sindre managed eventually. “You want to distract me from a nightmare by talking about the afterlife?”

“I wasn’t really thinking to be honest.” Søren admitted.

“I’ll say.”

Shifting slightly Søren asked, “So new subject?”

Sindre looked thoughtful for a moment. “Depends.”

“On?”

“What about the afterlife were you planning on discussing?”

Søren shrugged. “Didn’t really get that far. I don’t know, what about belief in ghosts?”

Sindre stared.

“What?” Søren demanded.

“Nothing. I just thought you said the afterlife, not the supernatural.” Sindre teased.

Crossing his arms, Søren replied, “Ghosts are part of the afterlife too. It totally counts.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so!”

Sindre snickered. “Okay, let’s pretend it counts. No, I don’t believe in ghosts. Do you?”

“Not until recently.” Søren admitted.

“What changed your mind? An encounter from beyond the veil?” Sindre snarked.

Snorting, Søren replied, “Yeah something like that. Fine then, what about like, God or Gods or Something with a capital S?”

“Not really my thing.” Sindre said bitterly. “Even if God does exist, He’s not someone I have any kind feelings towards because I don’t think he cares.”

Frowning, Søren asked, “Because of what happened to Emil?”

Sindre looked up, surprised. “How do you know about him?” he demanded

Cursing himself for letting that slip, Søren opted for the truth. “I uh, googled you. Between news articles and the cabinet of photos I put 2 and 2 together.”

“So what? Now you’re an expert on my life? Because of one google search and some news articles about-” Sindre cut himself off, unwilling to even mention Emil’s name.

Søren tried to calm Sindre down, hoping that Emil wasn’t listening. “No, of course not. I just wanted to understand why you’re so…”

“‘So…’ what?”

“So lonely.”

Sindre blinked, clearly not expecting that answer.

“You lock yourself away from everything.” Søren continued. “You spend so much time trapped in the past that you’re ignoring the world around you. You’re hurting yourself because you’re not even willing to try and let go of the blame for an accident that couldn’t possibly be your fault.”

Sindre just stared, shocked into silence.

“I’m not saying I know anything about Emil or your relationship with him or even how it must have been to lose him. I can’t even imagine it. But because I have a brother I will say that if he died and I was acting like you, he’d probably kick my ass. I’d guess that if Emil could see you, he’d just want you to try and be happy.” Søren concluded.

Quietly, Søren made his way out into the hallway. Just before he shut the door behind him, he turned back and said, “Sorry if I sound pushy, I don’t really do subtle. Just… think about it okay?”

And with that the door clicked closed, leaving Sindre alone with his thoughts.

Back in his room, Søren collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. With a final, desperately wish that he hadn’t completely screwed things up, he finally drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

You would think that after three years you’d develop a little bit of patience. Although if Emil was being completely honest with himself, he’d hardly been a patient person before he died so doing nothing for months on end probably didn’t help.

Still, at least he wasn’t totally alone now. Well, Sindre had always been around but seeing as he couldn’t see him and was completely unaware of his existence it didn’t really count. Unfortunately, Emil’s success rate for maintaining visibility was poor at best and for some reason only seemed to manifest around Søren. Because heaven forbid that he could actually be able to communicate with the one person he’d wanted to.

Sighing, Emil wandered down the hallway towards the living room for what felt like the millionth time that day. As grateful as he was that Søren was trying to help him talk to Sindre, he couldn’t help but feel like the guy could speed up the process a bit. On the other hand, his nonexistent stomach clenched nervously at the thought of confronting his brother. After everything Sindre had been though would he even want to see him? After three years of waking from restless sleep, screaming through nightmares, and being totally unable to sleep, he might not want anything to do with the brother who sat at the heart of the problem.

It would certainly explain why Sinde refused to even talk about the accident and had locked away all his pictures, Emil thought as he ran his hand lightly over the front of the cabinet. Not that he looked anything like his pictures these days. White hair, purple eyes, and a flickering glow might seem normal to Emil after years but he somehow doubted that Sindre would be able to see it that way. Would be able to see him this way. 

Shaking his head slightly, Emil moved to the window to see Søren getting off of his bike and heading towards the house. I wouldn’t be much longer he promised himself, pointedly ignoring the question of what would happen to him once it was over. Not much longer at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this one is short but i was pushing past writers block and Emil was the only character cooperating


	8. Chapter 8

Sindre woke to the smell of coffee.

That in and of itself wasn’t terribly unusual, but the accompanying daylight was far from normal. For a moment he debated the merits of not moving for the next few hours, but eventually the desire for caffeine won our. Making his way towards the kitchen, he found Søren with a fresh pot of coffee and a tray of what appeared to be homemade pastries.

Søren grinned when he saw Sindre. “Hey Sleeping Beauty.”

“What time is it?” Sindre asked, ignoring the jab and grabbing a mug.

“About 10.” Søren replied, setting down the tray and passing over the coffee pot.

Sindre quietly poured the coffee and replaced the pot.

“I would have woken you earlier but to be honest I feel like you needed the sleep.” Søren said.

Sindre shrugged. “Well you’re not wrong.”

Søren laughed and offered him a plate. “Danish?”

“Really? Of all the pastries in the world you went for a Danish?”

“You have an issue with Danes or something?” Søren asked with mock offense.

Sindre grinned. “Only one and he’s standing in my kitchen.”

“Shut up and take a pastry.” Søren huffed, clearly amused.

Sindre complied and moved to the table. Søren watched apprehensively as he took a bite.

“These are actually really good.” Sindre said.

Søren relaxed slightly, but scowled. “You don’t have to sound so surprised. It’s not like I was trying to poison you.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Sindre said apologetically. “They’re just even better than I expected. Probably the best I’ve had.”

Søren flushed with pleasure. “They’re not that great really. My brother, Berwald, makes the best, but don’t you dare tell him I said that.”

Unlike the last time Søren had mentioned his brother, this time Sindre didn’t flinch. Instead, he laughed and said, “Well maybe you need to introduce me to your brother.”

“Sorry but he’s already taken.”

Rolling his eyes, Sindre replied, “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Søren just laughed and grabbed another pastry.

There was a comfortable silence as they both ate and simply allowed time to pass. Søren figured that now was as good a time as any to clear the air.

“Sorry again about the other night. I swear I didn’t mean to go preaching or prying.”

Surprised, Sindre set down his mug. “No, it’s alright.” he replied slowly. “Honestly you said some stuff that I really needed to hear.”

“Oh okay…”

Another parcel of silence, this one infinitely more awkward. This time, it was Sindre who broke it.

“If Emil could see me now he would probably tell me I’m being stupid.”

Søren blinked. “I don’t think he would.”

Sindre just gave him a look.

“Okay so maybe he would.” Søren continued. “But that would just be the start. Maybe he’d say thank you for remembering or that it’s okay to not be hurt by this as much. Maybe it’s time to start letting go. Of the bad stuff anyway. I just think he’d want you to remember him in a way that didn’t hurt you.”

Not unkindly, Sindre asked, “How do you know what he’d say?”

Søren shifted nervously. “I don’t know it’s just what I’d think. Sort of.”

“I just wish I could talk to him, just one more time.” Sindre said. “I never really got to say goodbye.”

“Maybe you can.” Søren said softly.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Sindre demanded.

“You know how the other night you asked if I started believing in ghosts because of some kind of encounter?” he began nervously.

Sindre nodded, clearly wary.

Søren cleared his throat and continued, “Would you by any chance believe me if I said that the encounter involved Emil.”

Sindre was perfectly still. he could hear his pulse pounding and everything suddenly seemed too bright, too sharp, like the world had come into hyper focus.

“Sindre?” Søren asked, concerned. “Are you okay?”

The only response was a sudden flurry of motion. Sindre practically jumped away from the table, his coffee mug crashing to the floor and shattering. He left the room and a near run and Søren heard the door of his room slam shut almost hard enough to shake the house.

Søren took in the disaster that breakfast had become and considered the possibility that he may have not only failed to help Emil, but actually made things worse.

“Well fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look! the plot's back!


	9. Chapter 9

“Okay, so let me get this straight. You avoid the subject for almost 3 weeks including one rather decent opportunity and then you manage to blurt it out in such a way that Sindre locked himself in his room for 2 days and hasn’t spoken to you in almost a week.”

A few months ago Søren hadn’t even believed in ghosts, and yet here he was, being lectured by one. Even worse it was a teenage ghost, so why did he feel like he was the kid in this conversation.

“Uh, yeah that’s pretty much what happened.” Søren replied nervously. “At least he knows now?”

Emil groaned and flopped down onto the couch.

Søren made a curious noise.

“What now?” Emil asked.

“I just always thought ghosts were supposed to be able to go through stuff but you hit that couch pretty solidly.”

Emil just sat up and looked at him.

“What?” Søren asked defensively.

Again, Søren was forcefully reminded of exactly how much Emil could look like his brother as the boy glowered

“We have about 100 problems to figure out and you wanna start in on my physical properties? Really?”

Søren swallowed. “Well, since you’re a ghost do you even have physical properties?” he asked.

“We’ll see exactly how physical these properties are when I smack you in a second.” Emil snapped.

Søren laughed at the weightless threat. “You can try, but-”

A voice cut him off. “Who are you talking to, Søren?”

Twisting around, Søren saw Sindre standing bewildered in the doorway.

“Sindre?”

“No, it’s the neighbor.” Sindre huffed. “Now answer the question.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Søren’s gaze flicked back to where Emil had been sitting. He couldn’t see him, but there was still the weird flicker in the corner of his vision that meant he was there.

Sudden movement in front of him, caught his gaze. Sindre had moved to stand a few feet closer, gaze still expectant.

“I’m, uh, not sure you’d believe me even if I told you.” Søren managed, trying to avoid Sindre’s eyes.

Sindre’s gaze hardened. “Just tell me.”

“Emil.” Søren blurted. “I was talking to Emil.” he continued.

“And say I do believe this. Why can’t I see, or at least hear him if that’s true?” Sindre asked stiffly.

Søren shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. We’ve been trying to figure that out for weeks now.”

Sindre raised an eyebrow. “We?”

“Emil and I, of course.” Søren shook his head before continuing, “You seriously don’t think your brother wouldn’t be trying to talk to you too? We have no idea why even after three years of trying you can’t see him, but I show up and I can for some reason, and even then not all of the time.”

“You expect me to believe that Emil has been haunting me for the last three years? How stupid do you think I am?” Sindre snarled.

Søren could practically feel Emil flinch, and desperately tried to think of some way to redirect the conversation.

“Sindre, please, just give it a chance.” he pleaded. “What could I do to make you believe that it really is him?”

Sindre was quiet for a moment, glancing towards the window. Søren watched as he moved to sit.

“Maybe…” he began hesitantly. “There are things that only Emil and I knew about. If you could tell me then maybe I could…”

For the first time, Søren heard hope in Sindre’s voice. He smiled softly.

“What do you want to know?”

As Sindre thought, Søren shot another glance at where Emil had been, in the light from the window, he thought he could see a faint outline. He just hoped that Emil could get it together enough to communicate an answer of this was going to go bottoms up really quickly.

Sindre cleared his throat, catching Søren’s attention. “When we were little, we had lots of imaginary friends. You know, kids stuff.” he started, a little embarrassed. “My favorite was a troll, but other than me, only Emil knew his name.”

After a beat of silence, Søren could just heard the faintest whisper of a name from where Emil was clearly still sitting.

“Azathoth?” Søren asked quietly.

Sindre looked like he’d had the breath knocked out of him. Barely holding, back tears, he managed to ask, “He’s really here?”

Søren relaxed. “Yeah. Yeah, he is.”

“Where? Can I talk to him?”

Søren paused, unsure how to phrase this without sounding like an ass.

“What?” Sindre demanded.

“Well as for where, he’s right here next to me. I think. He was when I answered that question about the troll but he might have moved.”

Sindre blinked. “I thought you could see him?”

“Sometimes.” Søren explained. “When you came in he went invisible again. I think surprise had something to do with that, and now he’s too worked up over you knowing to actually hang on to visibility.”

“So how can I talk to him?”

Søren sighed. “He can hear you anytime so it’s more a matter of how he can talk to you. We’ve been trying to work on it. Who knows maybe it’ll get easier know that you both know the score.”

“And he’s been here for three years…” Sindre met his gaze before continuing. “Søren why is he still here? Is this all there is for an afterlife? Stuck here forever?”

“We don’t know. Well we know that not everyone who dies sticks around but we don’t know where you go if you don’t or if Emil can ‘move on’ so to speak.” After a pause he continued. “Well I guess we do know why he stuck around, but that was pretty obvious.”

Sindre still looked confused.

Søren snorted, “He was worried about you, Sindre. He wasn’t about to just abandon his big brother like that. Not after everything you did for him.”

“So… what now?”

Søren shrugged but he was still smiling. It felt like things were lighter somehow, now that Sindre knew.

“Hell if I know, but we could start by figuring out how to get you and Emil on a plane of existence where you can actually talk. Besides, things might go smoother now that we have the smartest brain in the house working on it too. Now how about some coffee?”

Sindre smiled at that, and as they both headed toward the kitchen, Søren felt like for the first time since he’d found Emil, things were about to seriously change. 


	10. Chapter 10

Søren found Sindre in the same place he’d been for at least the last 18 hours. Hunched over the computer, surrounded by empty coffee mugs, and more worryingly, untouched plates of food.

“Sindre?”

When he was ignored, he sighed and moved forward. Grabbing the back of the office chair, he wheeled it back, and then stepped in between Sindre and the screen.

“Hey!” Sindre protested, ineffectively trying to push Søren out of the way.

As Sindre moved to stand, Søren bent forward, placing his hands on the chairs armrests, trapping Sindre.

“What are you doing, Søren?”

Suppressing a smile at the almost childish irritation in Sindre’s expression, Søren started pushing the chair towards the kitchen.

“I’m helping you.” he replied.

Slumping back in surrender, Sindre muttered, “I can’t see how sabotaging my research counts as help.”

“I never said I was helping your research.” Søren said.

Sindre gave him a confused look. “But you said-”

He was cut off as Søren spun the chair through the doorway into the kitchen. One last push sent the chair wheeling towards the table, on which there sat a full dinner.

“I said I was helping you.” Søren said, taking a seat opposite him. When Sindre gave him a blank look he continued, “I know that you want to get in contact with Emil as soon as possible but is it really worth it if the minute you see him you pass out from sleep deprivation and lack of food?”

Grudgingly, Sindre mumbled an agreement.

“And,” Søren added. “Even if you can’t see him, Emil can still see you.”

At this, Sindre froze looking suddenly guilty.

“Hey.” Søren said softly. “That’s why I’m around, to stop you two from doing anything totally stupid.”

The corner of Sindre’s mouth twitched up slightly. “And pray tell, what exactly can a ghost do that would count as stupid.”

“Well… not a lot if I’m honest.” Søren admitted shrugging. “Although it would be nice if a certain someone would stop drawing dicks on my mirror.”

They both laughed for a moment before Søren became somber. “With Emil it’s mostly just making sure the kid keeps believing that we are gonna find a way for you two to talk, and that he stops feeling so guilty all the time.”

“He feels guilty?” Sindre repeated.

Søren sighed. “He’s been around for the last three years watching you be hurt by his death over and over again, and he blames himself for hurting you.”

“But-”

“I know, it’s not his fault. And I think he knows it to, sorta. But he was so afraid of how much it hurt you he didn’t even think you’d want to see him.”

For a moment, Sindre was silent, staring at the table and lost in thought. When he looked up at Søren, he looked almost scared.

“Of course I want to see him… But does he even want to see me?” he asked quietly.

Søren reached across the table and took one of Sindre’s hands.

“The happiest I’ve ever seen either of you is when I told you that I would help you see each other.”

Sindre swallowed, looking like he was struggling to hold back tears. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Now.” Søren said, releasing Sindre’s hand. “Eat, before this get’s totally cold and then bed okay? The research isn’t going anywhere.”

They ate in relative silence, the only sounds the occasional scrape of silverware across a plate. When they were done Søren took both of their plates to the sink and started to clean them. A moment later, he was joined by Sindre, who had their glasses.

“Hey, I got this, you don’t have to help.” Søren said.

Sindre shook his head. “I want to help. You cooked after all.”

Søren shrugged. “Alright then, but after you help go sleep okay?”

“Yes, Mom.”

Søren snorted, “Hey I’m just trying to help.”

After a pause Sindre replied. “You’re doing a good job.”

“What?”

“You really are helping. I mean before you showed up I was hardly sleeping and I can’t speak for Emil but 3 years of not speaking to anyone can’t be easy.” Sindre looked up at Søren as he continued. “And then you showed up.”

Søren shifted slightly, “Hey now I didn’t do anything special.” He stopped as he felt a hand cover his. Looking over he met Sindre’s solemn gaze.

“Søren.”

Had Sindre’s gaze always been that intense.

“Yes?”

Why was his voice so high?

Søren was frozen as he felt and watch Sindre lean in, and as his eyes closed, he felt Sindre’s chapped lips brush lightly against his cheek.

“Thank you.”

He heard rapid footsteps leave the room, and when he opened his eyes he was alone, his heart pounding like he’d just run a mile. His hand brushed his cheek where Sindre had been moments ago and despite his confusion he felt himself smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was never meant to be this long. oh well. at least the dennor is finally beginning to show up.


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning, Sindre walked into the kitchen, stretching languidly before slumping into a chair.

“Morning.” Søren said, clearly amused. He crossed the room and set a mug of coffee in front of Sindre.

Sindre raised an eyebrow.

Søren shrugged. “I heard the shower. Figured you’d want coffee.”

“Am I really so predictable?” Sindre asked.

“Only in your caffeine habits.” Søren replied. “The rest of you remains suitably mysterious.”

Sindre grinned. “Well that’s a relief. I wouldn’t want to ruin the mystery.”

Søren snorted. “Heaven forbid.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. After a few minutes, Sindre finished his coffee and moved to refill the mug.

“Back to your research?” Søren asked.

To his surprise, instead of leaving for the computer, Sindre returned to his seat at the table.

“In a manner of speaking.” Sindre began. “Seeing as you’re the only one who has actually seen Emil, I thought I should ask you about it.”

Søren joined him at the table. “Sure. What all do you want to know?”

“When did you first see him?”

Søren thought for a moment. “About 3 or so weeks ago? Around then anyway, and it was like 2 in the morning.”

“What were you doing?”

“Watching TV because I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you were tired?”

Søren frowned. “Only that time. If you stop sleeping I will cut you off from coffee.”

“I was just checking.” Sindre said defensively. “What else do you remember?”

Sighing, Søren leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Well… Even before I actually saw him, for days I’d been seeing this weird, flickery thing. Like-”

“Like there was something in the corner of your vision, but when you looked it was gone.” Sindre interrupted quietly.

Søren looked across at Sindre. “You’ve seen it too?”

Sindre shrugged. “Kind of? I used to see it a lot right after the accident but I played it off as part of the trauma.”

Søren watched his posture stiffen as he spoke, his hands balled so tightly his knuckles turned white. He reached across the table and gently took one of Sindre’s hands between his own, carefully unbending his fingers.

“Hey. You okay?”

Sindre took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. “I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Sindre.”

Sindre sighed. “Okay I’m not actually that fine but I’m okay for this, I promise.”

“As long as you’re sure. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself for this.” Søren said.

“Why, because Emil will worry?” Sindre asked.

Søren let out a frustrated noise. “Because I’m worried about you!”

Releasing Sindre’s hand, Søren rose and stalked out into the living room. Slowly, Sindre followed him, and found him standing with his back to him, staring out the front window, an unusual level of tension in his shoulders. When he heard Sindre come in, his shoulders slumped, and the expression on his face as he turned to look at Sindre was almost apologetic.

“Søren…”

“Sorry. I guess these last few days have been stressful for both of us huh?” Søren said, with a forced smile.

Sindre didn’t miss the strain under the smile, or how it didn’t come close to reaching his eyes. He crossed the room slowly, before reaching out a hand. Søren unconsciously did the same, so they met in the middle, clasping hands tightly.

Sindre reached up with his free hand and gently cupped Søren’s cheek. “Hey, like you said it’s been stressful for both of us. It’s okay. Everything you’ve been doing to help both of us… You never had to and you’re still here after all it.”

“I just wanted to help.” Søren said quietly.

“You are helping. More than you know.”

Unconsciously, they leaned towards each other, but before their lips could meet a new voice broke the silence.

“Can’t you two just kiss and get this over with so we can all move on?”

Sindre spun around towards the source of the voice, staggering and almost falling when he recognized him.

“I heard you.” he whispered. “I can see you.”

Søren looked between the brothers, unable to tell who was more overwhelmed by this. Or if either of them were actually still functioning.

In an attempt to break the nearly unbearable tension, Søren joked, “Well if I knew that all I had to do was make out with Sindre we could have fixed this problem weeks ago.”

As they turned to him with near identical looks of exasperation, Søren began to think that, contrary to what he’d thought before, being around both of them together would be far from easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a+ timing kid. way to ruin a moment. and make a new one


	12. Chapter 12

Ten minutes, plenty of tears and an awkward failure at physical contact later, Søren found himself in the kitchen alone. Making some excuse that he was pretty sure fooled exactly no one, he had slipped away to try and give the brothers a moment of privacy. After all, it’s not everyday your little brother shows up as a ghost.

He’d thought they were going to have a bad moment when Sindre reached out for a hug and Emil drew back almost reflexively, but when he’d explained that he wasn’t exactly solid and it was just super uncomfortable to have people go through him Sindre had understood.

Sighing, Søren fussed around the kitchen, tidying their mugs before looking around the kitchen for something else to do. After wiping down the already clean counters and reorganizing the fridge, freezer, and several cabinets, he decided it would be okay to at least check in on how they were doing.

As he lingered behind the door into the living room he could hear Sindre asking a question.

“So what’s with the hair? And the eyes?”

Emil looked away mumbling, “I know, it’s a little weird.”

Realizing the mistake, Sindre backtracked. “I just meant is it like a ghost thing? Has it been like that the whole time or did it change slowly?”

“Oh. I think it’s just a ghost thing. It was just like that when I… woke up? Or whatever you’d call coming back.”

“Well, I know this seems like a weird thing to say, but I actually think it kinda suits you.” Sindre said.

Emil snorted. “Yeah cause this conversation hasn’t been filled with weird things already.”

“I mean it.” he insisted.

“Well thanks, I guess.” And then after a beat of silence he called out. “Are you gonna creep out there forever or did you plan on joining us?”

Sindre turned to see Søren standing in the doorway, looking like he’d been caught out. Smiling, he beckoned Søren into the room.

“While we appreciated your completely obvious attempts to give us some alone time we’re not really talking about anything private anymore.” He said. “Or particularly difficult.” he continued.

At that Søren looked more carefully at the two of them. It was subtle but Sindre’s eyes looked a little red and Emil’s were doing the glowy thing they tended towards when he got emotional.

“And you’re both doing alright after talking through the difficult stuff?” he asked.

The brothers turned to look at each other in unison, before answering.

“We’re good.” Emil said.

“Better than we’ve been in a long time.” Sindre added.

Søren smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

A moment passed in comfortable silence, Søren turning his gaze out the window. It was a cloudless sunny day, a beautiful day, in more ways than one.

Seconds later, his attention was grabbed by a familiar flicker on the edge of his vision. Looking over at Emil, he could still see the boy, but it was clear he was on the edge of visibility.

“You okay?” he asked, which unfortunately drew Sindre’s attention towards Emil as well.

Emil frowned, “Apparently staying visible is really fucking hard.”

“Language.” Sindre admonished, as a kneejerk reaction, worried expression replaced by a much more disappointed, almost parental look.

Emil laughed at that, even as he flicked more and more. “You really haven’t changed that much have you?”

“Neither have you. Three years and not an inch taller.” Sindre shot back

“Well ghosts have issues getting calcium apparently.” Emil said. “But between now and the next time I figure out this whole visibility thing I’ll work on that.”

“You do that.”

“Well if we get desperate I could always try making out with Sindre again.” Søren suggested.

Emil pulled a face as Sindre hit his arm.

“It was just a suggestion.” he said defensively.

Emil rolled his eyes and as he finally faded away they could hear him say, “I don’t need or want to see any of that, but you two really should get a move on.”

And with that he was gone, leaving Sindre and Søren in possibly the most awkward silence the two had ever found themselves in. Fortunately, the phone rang, releasing them, but leaving both wondering if they were the only one’s feeling a tiny bit of regret for wasting the opportunity. 


	13. Chapter 13

Sindre woke in a cold sweat.

It was just a dream, he thought almost trying to convince himself that as long as it was a dream it wasn’t as bad to remember. Rubbing his eyes and yawning, he sat up and stretched, knowing that there was little point in trying to sleep again after that so he might as well shower. At least he could just see light through the curtains, so it couldn’t be ridiculously early.

It wasn’t like he’d expected the nightmares to vanish, all his problems solved with one heart to heart talk (even if that talk was with his dead little brother). No, he was a bit too cynical to have hoped for that. But he would be lying if he said he hadn’t hoped the dreams would be a little less vivid. Apparently the universe was in fact against him, a fate he resigned himself to as he stepped into the shower, relaxing fractionally under the warm water.

A few minutes later, he stepped out, grabbing his towel and wrapping it around his waist before stepping over to the sink, where he was greeted by a fog-steamed mirror and a message.

“ _Sorry about the dreams._ ” was scrawled just above a messier,“ _TALK TO HIM!_ ”

“Well.” Sindre said aloud, in case Emil could hear him. “If you insist, but you could at least say please.”

As he left to get dressed he could swear he heard a familiar, exasperated groan, and the corner of his mouth quirked up into a grin.

Ten minutes later found him in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee, reading the paper and trying not to eavesdrop on a conversation between Søren and who he assumed was his brother. He was amused to see the petulant, almost childish expression that crossed Søren’s face as the volume of conversation rose and then the contradictory crinkle by his eyes that gave away the fond smile he was trying to hide, despite the fact that the person on the other end couldn’t see him. After he hung up, he joined Sindre at the table.

“That was my brother, Berwald.” he said in response to Sindre’s questioning glance. “He was checking up on me, said he had to make sure I wasn’t making a nuisance of myself.”

Sindre chuckled. “Do you really make a nuisance of yourself often enough that he has to check?”

Søren’s expression really couldn’t be described as anything other than a pout. “Of course not! He’s just being, well, he’s being himself.” he whined.

“I see.” Sindre replied, not bothering to hide his amusement.

“No, seriously!” Søren protested. “It’s more like his my mother than my brother sometimes! And you know what the worst part is?”

“No, but I’m assuming you’ll tell me.”

“He’s not even the older brother!” Søren continued, ignoring the jibe. “I’m older than he is and he still acts like he has to take care of me.”

Sindre shrugged, “Well younger siblings do that sometimes. Maybe it’s to keep us on our toes.”

“Did…” Søren hesitated. “Did Emil do that?”

“He still  _does_ apparently.” Sindre rolled his eyes. “Now he’s leaving me mirror messages as well.”

Søren laughed. “Well I’m sure yours are a bit more polite than the one’s he leaves me.”

“You would hope.”

A peaceful silence descended as Sindre finished his coffee. When he did, he stood to add his mug to the growing pile of dishes in the sink.

As he felt a warm hand touch the back of his neck he started, dropping the mug into the sink and spinning to face an equally startled looking Søren, who had his hands held out almost defensively.

“Your tag was flipped out!” he defended. “I was just trying to….” he trailed off as he noticed exactly how close they were as he’d all but pinned Sindre against the sink.

Sindre saw his eyes flicker down to his lips and swallowed. Slowly, Søren leaned in and as he did Sindre let his eyelids flutter closed.

When the touch of his lips came, it was soft, warmth pooling in his stomach.

He opened his eyes when Søren pulled away a moment later, eyes wide.

“Oh my god, Sindre I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”

He was cut off when Sindre stepped forward, closing the tiny gap and pulled Søren’s face close to kiss him again.

This time when they parted it was Sindre who spoke.

“Don’t apologize. And I certainly hope that you meant it.”

Søren’s answering grin was blinding and he was leaning in for a third kiss when a familiar voice broke in.

“It’s about goddamn time.”

As Søren stepped away, releasing him so quickly it was as if he’d been burned, turning to find Emil in the doorway, fully visible, Sindre momentarily contemplated whether it would be utterly unethical to have his little brother’s ghost exorcised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah Emil. You really have the best sense of timing.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry if things are feeling rushed but i'm trying to get this done before i leave the fandom completely. also once again sorry for the delay.

Clearing his throat, Søren broke the decidedly awkward silence.

“Morning, Emil.”

Emil rolled his eyes as he moved into the kitchen and sat on Sindre’s recently vacated seat.

“Your boyfriend's a dork.” he said, looking at Sindre.

Sindre watched Søren’s face flush with amusement before replying, “I suppose he is, but I happen to like him that way.”

“Wait.” Søren croaked, swallowing before continuing. “I’m your boyfriend now?”

It was Sindre’s turn to roll his eyes. “Well I’m not kissing anyone else in my kitchen.”

Emil snickered. “Yeah. Definitely a dork.”

Søren looked somewhat pleased but also somewhat like he wanted the earth to open up and swallow him. Taking pity on him, Sindre reached out and gave his hand a gentle squeeze before moving past him to sit at the table across from his brother.

“So besides interrupting my love life, is there another reason you’re here?” he asked.

Emil frowned. “You say that like I did it on purpose.I still have no idea what I have to do for you guys to see me.” He sounded distracted.

Joining them at the table Søren said, “Well you’re here now, so what’s up?”

A flicker ran through Emil, so small that if he hadn’t been looking for it, he might not have caught it. Something was wrong.

“Emil.” he said softly “What’s wrong.”

He hesitated for a moment. “I don’t know.” His calm expression was fading fast, replaced by a near panicked expression. “I’m losing time.” Another flicker

Sindre and Søren exchanged a confused look.

“Losing time?” Sindre asked.

Emil fidgeted, flickering again. “It’s like… I don’t know really. Kinda like falling asleep without meaning to? Sometimes a few hours go by and I can’t remember it happening.” The words came quicker now, spilling out almost involuntarily. “This hasn’t happened before. It’s not like going between being visible or not it’s almost like… Like I’m starting to go for good.”

“You’re disappearing.” Sindre demanded, voice strained, hands gripping the table, white knuckled.

Realizing that both brothers were on the verge of full-blown panic, Søren decided to intervene

He placed a gentle hand on Sindre’s shoulder and said, “Hey, I know it sounds bad, but let’s just calm down for a second.”

Seeing Sindre begin to bristle he continued quickly. “This is new to all of us, right? How can we even know that it’s a bad thing?”

“It feels bad. Wrong.” Emil said in a small voice.

Instinctively, they both reached for Emil, but the boy pulled away, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.

“I hate being like this, being stuck and invisible! But I don’t want to disappear either!” he cried. And then quieting suddenly. “I’m scared to disappear.”

Emil looked up, eyes shining with tears and Søren was forcibly reminded of just how young he really was.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“We don’t know.” Søren said simply. “But we can try to figure it out together, okay?”

“Okay.” Emil nodded, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. “Okay.” He repeated as the strongest flicker yet ran through him.

“Hey.” Sindre said softly as the flickering increased to the point where Emil was only about half visible. “We’re here for you. I’m here for you. Always.”

That steadied him slightly, though the flickering continued. “No matter what?”

Sindre managed a small smile. “My little brother is a ghost. I think I can handle any extra weirdness that comes along.”

Emil made a small noise that might have been a laugh.

“Sindre?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you…” he started. “Can you maybe put Mr. Puffin out so I can see him easier?”

Sindre nodded. “Of course. If I’d known you were around I’d have put him out sooner.”

“And Sindre, if…” Emil hesitated.

“Yes, Emil?” he prompted.

“If I do disappear-” he started

Sindre stiffened “Don’t say-”

Emil cut him off. “Sindre. If I disappear I need to know that you’re not going to go back to how you were. Please. I don’t want that.”

“I can’t control-”

“Promise me you’ll try!” Emil demanded.

Sindre held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. “I promise” And then he continued with grim amusement. “Even if I didn’t I don’t think this stubborn idiot would let me.” Gesturing towards Søren as he spoke.

“Good.” Emil said over Søren’s protests that he wasn’t stubborn or an idiot.

“See you soon, Emil.”

“Sure.” Emil replied. “I’ll try to knock next time.”

And as they suddenly recalled how this conversation started both Sindre and Søren went quiet and shifted awkwardly, left with the faint sound of Emil’s laughter as he finally flickered out of sight.

“So…” said Søren, once again breaking an awkward silence. “Boyfriends?”

Sindre turned to him with a bemused look. “Really? Of the entire conversation that’s the bit you’re stuck on.”

“Hey, it’s a somewhat personal revelation.” he said defensively. “And it’s, you know, a fairly normal subject. One that I actually understand.”

He snorted. “Emil was right. You are a dork.”

“But…?”

“But I like it that way. You might be a dork but you’re my dork.”

Søren could feel his heart in his throat but he managed “You really need to get out more if you think that’s how you ask someone out.”

“Well maybe you should fix that.”

Smiling, Søren replied. “Anytime.”

Sindre’s answering grin filled every inch of him with warmth.

“I’ll hold you to that.”


End file.
